


Reference Barbarian

by bmouse



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, The Friendliest Kidnapping Ever, With A Twist, barbarian au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:28:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmouse/pseuds/bmouse
Summary: Megatronus of Kaon suffers a fairly pleasant kidnapping.
Relationships: Megatron/Orion Pax
Comments: 16
Kudos: 229





	Reference Barbarian

Megartronus expected something to go wrong before his title match against “The Sparkshredder of Tarn” (real designation: something much less impressive) but full-scale kidnapping had been a little beyond the scope of his imagination. 

The first issue was purely logistical - one did not simply misplace, or make off with, a twenty five ton converted warframe. The second was simply an affront to his spark: if the deepest mines under Kaon had not been able to hold him, no cage in the universe ought to be strong enough.

But there he was, staring at an unfamiliar and beautifully enameled ceiling, his powerful frame pinned to the floor by what looked like the thinnest of golden nets. And yet, he couldn’t so much as shift a pede.

"_How_ the _frag-_" he began.

"I do apologize for the suddenness of our meeting, but there is no need for rough language” came a gentle but faintly reproving voice from above his left pauldron.

Conscious of finding himself with an audience, Megatronus bared his freshly sharpened dentae and snarled. 

"How dare you presume to imprison me! Let me go before I crush your spark chamber like an empty cube of high-grade!" 

"Unlikely, in your present position, Sir Megatronus." Was the oddly respectful retort. The other mech’s speech had a trace of northern accent - something scholarly and prim. To Megatronus’ supreme annoyance, it was also utterly unafraid.

So. The usual intimidation tactics would find no purchase here. Hmmm..

Perhaps his captor would appreciate a few frightfully certain facts.

Megatronus ex-vented, bringing his roaring engine and agitated spark into some semblance of battle-ready calm.

"You do realize that Soundwave is going to come find me?” he said evenly. “And then he's going to efficiently offline the lot of you and use your helm fins for toothpicks."

"That is a much more credible threat!" the voice agreed cheerfully. "One that perhaps I should take to spark. I _do_ only have two to choose from." 

Something leaned over him and, squinting to manually trigger his optic refocusing subroutine, Megatronus at last beheld his captor.

Simply put, he was adorable.

The little mech had a clean, smooth faceplate. The honestly-disclosed audial fins sat on either side of a round blue helm, topped off with a modest crest faintly reminiscent of a glitchicorn’s horn. The only vaguely sinister things about him were his blue optics, whose eerie shine sent Megatronus suddenly down into old memory files and the glow of a crystal smelter.

Also disconcerting was the way he was smiling down at him. 

"Thankfully for my future frame integrity, Sir Soundwave has approved our appointment! He informed me that ‘The Sparkshredder’s’ handler was quite set on assassinating you, so it would be prudent to have you out of the city and away from the pits for an orn or two. I was so very glad that we were able to align our schedules!"

He prattled on so cheerfully, as if this wasn’t a kidnapping and Soundwave had simply arranged Megatronus’ social calendar, absentmindedly forgot to inform him, and after this they were all going to go for rust sticks and calcium tea. 

"Who in the Unmaker's name are you?" Megatronus rumbled warily.

The little mech blinked.

"Oh! Forgive me, I seem to have gotten ahead of myself. My designation is Orion Pax. And I am an Archivist." 

Ah… Well that rather explained the whole bizarre situation. 

The Archivists were an extremist social faction of record keepers. Nominally led by the mad seer Alpha Trion, they had split up from the Iaconinan government over some policy schism a few hundred vorn ago. Now they travelled in great caravans with their mobile data Archive, collecting live recordings of significant events, interviewing experts, and very likely spying on the local governments for the benefit of some higher authority. At least if common gossip was to be believed.

Behind his fierce exterior Megatronus recalculated his immediate plans (currently: slag anyone within reach and blow a hole in the ceiling). He was restrained and irritated, but not necessarily in danger. Besides, whatever they had knocked him out with had resulted in probably the best recharge cycle he’d had in a long time. And he was… curious.

"Well? And what do you want from me, little Archivist?” 

"_Senior_ Archivist, actually.” The blue optics narrowed reprovingly. “And what I want, Sir Megatronus, is a few joors of your time and expertise. Starting with any deep tunneling working-songs you would care to remember.”

Good thing he was already on the ground.

“You. Want _me_. For _mining songs_. _Me_.” Megatronus sputtered “How absurd! Surely that is just a transparent pretext? If I am not actually here to be interviewed by the Archive’s spy network on the subject of my seditious speeches I will be very, _very_ disappointed. Or is old Alpha Trion a fan of my deathmatches?”

For the first time Megatronus saw something other than cheerful enthusiasm or quiet competence reflected in the other mech’s demeanor. Pax’s optics cycled in, zooming erratically from Megatronus’ much less pristine faceplate, down his polished, powerful frame and then a little guiltily back up. 

“Well I’m afraid the fan would be me_._ A fan of your _speeches_, of course. Which we will cover extensively. But first, the miners of Kaon have always had a fascinating and rich oral tradition! It isn’t terribly well known to the public but-” here Pax looked minutely abashed, as if he’d done far more than the usual amount of research before their meeting “-it _is_ our business to know things like that.”

“We had a rich oral tradition because half of us were forged with defective glyph interpreters! And those mindless droning songs were designed to keep a cadre synched up and consciousness over cruelly long shift periods. Because they never gave us enough fuel beforehand."

"Yes, I believe you.” Pax nodded solemnly. “And now with the recent reforms, both are dying out. Things deserve to be preserved. Especially painful things. Otherwise the rest of the world might forget how you and your brothers suffered."

Almost in spite of himself, Megatronus felt the wave of ancient anger recede. 

How odd, he had been fully prepared to offline this mech half a joor ago and now he felt... Well, Pax was already part of a disavowed and dissident social subgroup. Surely it wouldn’t be a stretch asking him if he’d like to join the Decepticons? Soundwave could certainly use the Archivists’ spy network. And Megatronus could have so many more accurate citations for his speeches! Along with a handy excuse to lure this lovely little scrap of steel into his berth. 

Megatronus leaned his helm back faux-casually (it just about the only movement he could manage) and let his voice settle into its most charming rasp.

"Well then. Tell me, Senior Archivist Orion Pax, does your clever little trap allow one to sit up? Though I can sing on my back just as well, if that's where you'd rather have me.” 

He had the pleasure of seeing Pax flush - soft blue in a band from cheek to cheek. The miniature smokestacks cleverly hidden behind his shoulders belched out several fat little clouds of steam. 

Megatronus smiled his sharkticon smile.

_Oh_, this was going to be a nice little vacation. 

~ 

**Author's Note:**

> I am tickled pink at all the delightfully trope-a-licious barbarian AUs in TF fandom and my friend Zazz dared me to do one where wee little TFP Orion is the one part of a weird 'fringe' society...


End file.
